Floodgates
by TequeezzyBoBeezy
Summary: CUMULATIVE A An old victim, a new case, and a timely reunion. Elliot returns. Short story, setting the stage for this great storyline! Keep calm, it's only Bensler ;)
1. In with the old

**Hi. This begins CUMULATIVE A. I think it's a good enough case, but the important aspect of this fiction is Elliot's return, setting the stage for the next fics in this section. This fic is pretty short, but don't worry, I think you'll be satisfied with it for the most part. Enjoy.**

 **Floodgates**

* * *

 **On scene around 12:30am**

"Who's our vic," Amaro asked a crime scene investigator. A woman in a maid's uniform spoke up—and frantically. "I came back just before midnight. I'd forgotten the key to my apartment. I was only gone forty-five minutes! I found Miss Jamie curled in a ball in the bathroom. She was crying and there was blood everywhere! Oh, God! I've known her since she was four." The maid, Catherine, was trembling with anguish, her face damp with stale tears and fresher ones, her lip quivering.

Olivia straightened the old lady into a dignified posture with her hands at Catherine's shoulders in a comforting manner. "It's okay, Mrs. Livingston. Do you know anybody who would want to hurt Jamie?" Amaro left Benson to the task of questioning Catherine. He went over to the ambulance where Jamie sat as an EMT used a tiny flashlight to check her pupils. "How's she doing?"

"Detective, she's in shock. Won't say a word. Ride if ya want."

Amaro hopped in. The whole ride the girl barely blinked. She was so pale and her hair was dark as the night. At the scene, Olivia peeked into the bathroom where the bloodbath took place. Catherine was right. Blood everywhere. The walls, the floor, sink, tub, and the medicine cabinet mirror was cracked with blood and hair on it. She went for a closer look, then turned to an investigator behind her and asked if they'd gotten a sample. "We're getting to it," he said. "Good. Her hair isn't blonde."

 **Squadroom**

Olivia slapped two pictures onto the board. "Our victim before and after the attack. She sustained three broken ribs, one punctured her left lung, a skull fracture, many bruises and cuts, and her nose is broken." Amaro cut in, "She also had anal tearing. On the bright side the idiot didn't use a condom. Finished on her lower back."

"Melinda's running it through the system. Let's hope he's had some run-ins with the law. Nick and Amanda, go check out her school, her friends." They grab their coats and head out.

Me and you, Olivia," asks Fin, comfortable with the status quo.

"Yeah, let's check on her recently-released uncle."

"Funny uncles," he shakes his head, "Everybody's got one."

Fin heads out a stride or two ahead of her. The elevator dings and opens and Fin exclaims warmly, "Long time no see!" Time slows down and every sound is muffled except for Benson's own breathing and heartbeat. Fin and Elliot broke their shoulder-hug and Elliot faced an approaching Sgt. Benson. "Olivia," he says warmly, reaching out a hand.

She goes from dazed and confused to utterly enraged and accomplishes three whole strides in one motion. She throws herself at Elliot with her right arm cocked back. Her hook caught him in his left eye and he almost goes down but catches himself. Fin yanked her back.

"Olivia!"

"I gave you twelve years! And I don't get one word!"

Fin puts her in her office and she slams the door behind her. She grimaces away the tears, holding her stomach with one arm as if it physically hurts from anger and hurt. Elliot rubbed the left side of his face. Fin approached him as they both composed themselves. "Look, man, you really should've given somebody a heads up. She's pissed."

"I see that!"

"Who was she gonna talk to? Us? No. She locked it away with her mom and her dad and her victims. I should really kick your ass myself but we're both getting too old for this."

"So maybe I deserve this."

"Maybe? You should've said something. That was a crap move. Just hope it didn't cost you your friend."

Benson came out of her office pacing toward them. "I'm ready, Fin." They got on the elevator. As the door closed she and Elliot looked each other in the face. No words. Only tense faces.

 **NYU**

Nick and Amanda walk toward a group of students wearing math club sweaters. "Hi. I'm Det. Rollins. This here is Det. Amaro. Tell me about your friend, Jamie." The small group, two males and a female, don't look fazed yet. The girl responded, "I'm Carla. This is my brother Carlisle. That's Joe. What's up with Jamie? She's not gonna make it to the tournament Friday night?" Amaro said, "If she does go she'll be going in a body cast. Who's got it in for her?" Joe looks at Carla then Carlisle. "She's really pretty and all but she doesn't have friends. So she doesn't have enemies."

"So you can't have enemies if you don't have friends?"

"Right. You'd think someone so beautiful and loaded would be popular. But she stays under the radar." Carla cut in. "She's a weird one but we love her." Then Carlisle adds, "We sure do. It's a shame. She would've given anything to be in this tournament." The detectives look at each other, confused. "Well there are only three of you now. Don't you need her to participate," asked Nick. Carlisle scoffed. He said, "We can just declare ourselves handicap by default. Our teammate can't make it." Nick and Amanda run with that.

 **Apartment of Leo Gaines**

Olivia knocks on the door three hard times. "Police! Open up!" "Olivia, how come you never talked to me?" About Elliot's leaving," inquired Fin. She just looked at him with a face of stone, "There was nothing to talk about. I was fine with his decision."

"You didn't look fine with it back at the precinct."

"Ya know, if anybody should've done some talking do you really think it was me?"

A man opened the door. Though he was dressed well, his face was harshly stubbled and his hair a mess. He looked like a cheap businessman drunk on cheap liquor. And young children could be heard playing in the back. "Whaddya want," he asked in a raspy voice that almost sounded painful. Benson and Fin simultaneously flashed their badges and made their way past the man.

"Hey, Fin. When somebody is convicted of child abuse aren't they ordered to stay away from children?"

"If I remember correctly, Sergeant Benson," he says, playing along, "But maybe things have changed."

Gaines recognized the name. "Benson? What the hell! Get outta here!"

Olivia peeps into the room where two children are playing "What are these kids doing here?"

"They're my grandkids and it's none of your business! Leave!"

A violation of parole is our business," Fin shouts, cuffing Gaines.

"How would their mother feel about this, I wonder," says Olivia.

"Guess we better call her. Tell her what's up."

Gaines laughs at their presumptuousness, "Guess what! These babies belong to my daughter, Amy. She _lets_ me babysit. 'Cause I do it for free."

"Ain't nothing free," said Fin, "I know what you're getting out of this."

Olivia crouches next to the children who have since stopped playing and are watching wide-eyed as their grandpa is arrested and mirandized. She gently says, "Hi. My name is Olivia and I'm a police officer. What're your names?" The little boy looks at his younger sister then back at Olivia. "Is my daddy a bad guy? Like in cops and robbers?"

* * *

 **So, please review and tell me what you hate, what you love. By the way, do you see what's going on with that Leo Gaines part? It makes me feel kinda sick, but, hey, it happens in the SVU world. The next chapter will be up before the end of this week so stay tuned. It gets good. _Happy reviewing!_**


	2. Hell or high water

**So, before you read, remember that this is gonna be a short fic. Pretty cut and dry. Prepare to be disappointed. I think I'll do the next chapter this weekend and maybe combine it with the next so it can be done. Thanks, Olivia E. Bensler, for your important input. I'm not really good at deconstructing characters' emotions the way readers would like (my expertise would probably be in their actions and the implications) but I tried and I hope it's okay for a first try. Okay, guys. Enjoy.**

 **Floodgates**

* * *

Interview room 2

Gaines sits at the cold metal table with his cuffed hands on top of it in the bland interview room. Olivia and Fin walk in and she sits. Fin stands.

"Whaddya wanna get me for now, huh," asks Gaines, sure that he's gonna get one over on the NYPD.

Olivia answers with her usual attitude, "How about violation of parole and sexual abuse?"

"They won't talk."

"Ah. I wasn't done… Rape and assault."

"Now you're just dreaming."

"Did I dream this?" She slams photos of Jamie after the attack onto the table.

"Jamie? I haven't seen her since she was seven. I didn't do this."

"We've got your blonde hair at the scene and we're gonna find your DNA! Explain away."

"You're lying and I know it."

"Where were you around midnight, dirtbag?"

"In your kids' bedroom, detective. I'm done talking. I want a lawyer."

They left the room. Olivia was disappointed in herself for letting this happen again. In her city. To this girl. Again. "Said the magic word," she groaned. "He didn't do it," said Fin, peering through the window at the man, "he's definitely abusing those kids but not Jamie. Not this time."

"Then who? You tell me, because I see a pedophile recidivating."

The door opens. "That's where the fault lies in the force. We only have one suspect so we wanna pin it all on him. Because somebody's gotta take the fall" It's Munch. While she's happy to his reclusive head popping in for a surprise visit, she's too overwhelmed for pleasantries. "There's no bias here, Munch. No conspiracy. There's a victim. And there's our perp," said a frustrated Olivia, pointing at Gaines through the glass. Munch questions her, "No bias, Olivia? The seven year old girl whose parents were killed by her naughty uncle who abused her was raped again when he's done his joke of a bid. She had only one hero. But it happened anyway." Now everybody spotted the elephant in the room. "Is it a coincidence that he's out and abusing those kids? No! He did it." She was annoyed that Munch didn't see what she saw.

Barba entered the room and intervention-like discussion. "Conflict of interest, Olivia. You shouldn't be working this case." Fin agreed. He leaned in and spoke in his calming, neutral whisper. "Olivia, he's a pedophile. Jamie is nineteen now. There's no evidence against him. And he's obviously been busy." Olivia lifted her head. Barba says, "He's going down for the two kids. And if the mother is his own daughter we'll go for gold. You can work this if you want to, but from your desk." Benson retreated to her office. What she really wanted to do was lie down and pretend that she doesn't know about the horrors that go on right before people's eyes. SVU is like another dimension. Any veteran detective knows that the special victims world is like a whole other plane in the same physical setting. But you have to have eyes for it. And like any power it comes with great responsibility. It weighs you down but you have to drag it along because once you have that power you're tainted and suddenly nobody else can do the job but you. She bears the cross – the whole shit ton of it.

There was once a time far in the past when she didn't have to carry it alone. She had what seemed like a soul mate taking up some of that stress. They were equally yoked. It was always a hard job but, in retrospect, it didn't seem so hard before… Before Elliot left. She felt so alone. She'd had so much faith in that man. She never thought she'd see a day where he wasn't in her life. She perhaps thought they'd retire at the same time – plan it perfectly – so one would never have to face that work with the other. Because, after so long, he also relied on her. They were codependent and both so afraid because it was no mystery that, given the unfortunate opportunity, she would choose him over the job. So why, she wondered, why would he reject her? He pushed her out of her life. After twelve years of being each other's Number One he abandoned their friendship, leaving her nothing to show for it but a necklace and a miniature reminder of him. She went through the five stages of grief and repeated some steps and not always in order. He deliberately ignored her calls. She left messages. He had to have listened to them. She ached her mind trying to figure out what she could've done to just keep him in her life. If he wanted out of SVU she would've settled for just a fragment of him. But excluded her from that decision's making. _So he doesn't care anymore?_ _Where does this leave me?_ He left her so confused and tormented. She questioned whether or not she should stay without him. If she could.

After every of emotionally draining case for the past four years she's wanted to follow his lead. To just go home and never show back up must be bliss because he did it and she used to think she was no different than him. The job destroyed him. Who's to say it won't run her down. Well, as far as she can tell, she's to say. So every day she goes to her office instead of home. This time Elliot is there. "Liv, I wanna talk." She sighs, slumping her shoulders. She sinks into her chair when she sits down. "You're not having a good day," he observes.

"Jamie Gaines."

"Our Jamie? That was a tough one. Was she raped?"

"Brutally. And I can't work the case."

"Conflict of interest is crap, I know. But the counselor's just covering his ass, so..."

"I really wanted him for this. I was blinded by my anger and drive to find her rapist and fast. And guilt. Hell, I might've gotten him convicted for something he's innocent of."

"I know how that feels but it couldn't happen to a nicer guy. But I was hoping we could talk about something else."

For a short pause nobody spoke. It was as if they were both deliberating; should they brave those restless waters?

"Cragen told me when you left for good. And I gotta tell you it hurt but I wasn't really mad at you."

"My face says you were."

They both chuckled.

"There was no easy way out. I couldn't talk to you."

"I wouldn't have made you stay."

"I wouldn't have been able to. I couldn't have left after looking you in the eye. I couldn't have looked you in the eye at all." He walked to the desk and leaned in to talk more quietly. "After Jenna—I mean—I killed a little girl. Before that her mother was killed. I wanted to protect her. It was my bullet that ended her life."

"I don't have to say it but I'll humor you. You did… Your job."

"And our partnership-"

"Our partnership was fine!"

"Come on, Olivia. Everything was headed for disaster and I wasn't gonna ride it out. I tried that with my marriage and the end is only worse. If—If I was gonna lose you-"

"Elliot—"

"—it was gonna be easy."

She was hearing all he was saying – every word – and appreciating it for its sincerity but it only opened old wounds. It brought back that _how could he_ pain. Because how could he make a decision that would affect her life so intensely without her having any say. Why did he have so much influence on her feelings? They were so tight; he had to have known it would shatter her world. Then he had the nerve to say he abandoned her so that the so-called inevitable collapse of their partnership would be _easy_. "For who?"

Then there was a knock at the door. Elliot backed away before Olivia called them in. It was Nick. "According to her teammates, Jamie has no friends."

"Well, she's a freshman," said Olivia.

"They all think she's weird. I guess anybody would be weird if they had her uncle. She hasn't built any friendships whatsoever," he noticed Elliot, "Oh, you must be Stabler. You need help finding your way out?"

Elliot started to roll up the sleeves of his shirt and puffed out his chest.

"Ya know, if we have a problem—"

At that moment Fin's appearance interrupted the scruffle that could've ensued. "She's awake." Olivia started giving orders. "Fin, you and Amanda go talk to her." He left. "Nick, call Catherine, tell her I'd like to talk to her here at the station as soon as possible. And I hate to say this, but take a peek at her financials. Jamie's too. Her parents left her a lot of money. Now somebody is after it and everybody is a suspect." The room was cleared except for Olivia and Elliot. She asked about his kids. "Dickie joined up, of course. But Lizzie's in college. Eli's in third grade now. He's been treatin' me well." He chuckled. "Kathleen is in graduate school for something that sounds useless and Maureen got engaged a few months back. I've got a wedding to pay for soon and I'll probably be supporting Kathleen for the most part." His lips couldn't resist curling into a smile. He's a proud father. "I take it you like the guy?" He shrugged and said, still smiling, "Mm… I don't hate him so…"

They were both waiting for the other to bring up the other part of his family. His marriage. Olivia took that burden for him.

"You said about your marriage 'the end is only worse.' What does that mean?"

His smile faded away. "You know." Her face proved concern. "How are you doing then?" Elliot sighed and said, "Ya know, all those years we were together. I didn't really think she'd find a way to hate me." She stood and with shock in her face. "El, I'm so sorry. Family is the most important thing. I wish there was something I could do." Those words, so familiar, struck him. She remembered. She learned that from him. It was getting harder to deny the role he played in her life, to deny that his leaving couldn't have hurt her too much.

"I wish someone could convince her I loved my family… Hell, I guess she was right. They always took the backseat to you and the job." She looked puzzled. "Kathy said that? She told me she thought I knew you better than she did but I—I hope she didn't let her imagination run wild."

"She wanted to believe there was anything except that our marriage was just flawed."

The room was still for a few seconds before she remember that she should be mad. "We've talked. You're still here. What more is there? You trying to stay?"

"I'm not _here_ to stay. I'm back in the city. Got a friend to pull a couple strings now I'm teaching at the academy. It's a good gig."

Olivia's heart started pounding inside her chest, which felt like an empty cave because the acoustics were so clear and profound—she was almost afraid he might hear and know how hard this is for her. Her eyebrows slightly rose in the middle and she lost the ability to blink. "You'll keep in touch then?" The corners of Elliot's mouth gently rose up a little. He nodded. "Hell or high water."

* * *

 **For the hardcore shippers, there's a surprise for you coming up I think you'll like. By the way, this was the first ever fanfic I wrote (I'm republishing it), so keep that in mind as you judge my amateur skills. Again, the next chapter will probably be up this weekend so stay tuned. _Happy reviewing!_**

 **PS: Quick, run and go participate in the poll I have up on my profile like the lovely dears you all are. :*  
**


	3. Just like old times

**Here is chapter three. I've decided not to throw chapters three and four together, because this chapter stretched out a bit while I was editing it. To the hardcore shippers that I mentioned last time, wait till next chapter. Sorry for the bait and switch. I could go ahead with the next chapter now but I really want to start on this other fic while I still have it good in my head.**

 **Anyway, I think you guys will like this chapter. If you feel like I left you with too little or something please let me know. That way I can decided if the next chapter should become a priority this week (if so, then I'll post it earlier than I plan to). Enjoy.**

 **Floodgates**

* * *

Elliot left her with his contact information. Seems they were on good terms again. They liked that. Only when the telephone rang was she back on her toes. "Benson… Hi Catherine. I wanted to talk to you… Do you know what she wanted? … Okay. Thank you, Catherine." She hung up the phone.

With everybody back in the precinct Olivia used the opportunity to fill the squad in. "Everyone, Catherine called. Saturday, a girl came over—white, privileged, "demanding". She wanted something from Jamie but we don't know what. It must've been important because the girl threw a fit when Jamie didn't or couldn't give it to her."

"Jamie didn't mention anything about an argument with anybody," said Fin, intrigued.

Nick said he wondered what Jamie was hiding.

"We're gonna find out," said Olivia.

But Fin had his doubts. "If she didn't tell us then, she won't talk to us now. And she had to have known the guy. No forced entry and the secrets she's apparently keeping. Would she maybe remember you, though?"

"I'll see."

Olivia called Elliot's cell to offer to let him join her. She's very good with young victims who will see her as a motherly figure. But Jamie was very close to her dad before his untimely death. And if she remembers Benson she'll certainly remember Elliot.

 **Mercy Hospital**

Elliot had been surprised at Olivia's offer. Even though their last visit ended with a pleasant moment, he couldn't let himself believe that she would forgive him and let him back into her life at all. Then she suddenly invites him to talk to a victim with her—he's not on the job anymore. He knew it would feel good, though, to be out there with her again. To make a strong, honest promise to a victim and feel the relief and satisfaction of delivering. To put a bad guy away. Help a girl heal. He almost thought the invitation was some covert operation to get Elliot out of retirement, but he knew better. Olivia's a cop. She's got a lot of resources at her disposal. She could've looked up his new phone number, address, employment—anything—to hunt him down and demand that he look her in the eyes and tell her that he's really leaving her. Yes, _her_. He's had to face it: leaving SVU was not as difficult as he thought it would be, but it was Olivia that haunted him. He told his wife he wasn't himself because he missed his job. It was true to some extent. But a blind man could see that he wanted Olivia in his life. Without Special Victims, however, how would it work anyway? She was better off without him. He had too much baggage. "She'll get along fine," he assured himself. Besides, he couldn't have been that important to her. He's worthless. So many times he's tried to shield her from the truth that he wasn't the man he made himself out to be. After Jenna the game was up.

They walked into Jamie's hospital room. Olivia first. Then Elliot. Olivia spoke calmly in a caring tone. "Hi, Jamie. My name is Olivia Benson. I'm a police officer. And this is my friend—"

"Elliot. I remember." Her voice was weak and her breathing was labored. Her eyes filled with tears and she began to frown. "When I was seven, my uncle—And my parents—But you two helped me."

Olivia leaned in and gently rested her hand on Jamie's wrapped head. Elliot went to the other side of the bed and held her hand in both his hands. "Jamie, sweetie, we want to help you again, but you have to help us. We both care deeply for you. We want to put the man who did this away." She was very unsure and contemplating. Olivia said, "Who is the girl who came to your apartment Saturday? She was mad at you. Did she have something to do with this?"

"Carla wouldn't," she said excitedly, sucking her wet, quivering lip back in.

"Well, she was angry about something."

"She wouldn't hurt me for that! She's my friend!"

"Catherine didn't get the feeling like she was very friendly toward you."

Elliot brought Jamie's hand to his mouth and gently kissed it. "Somebody beat you. And he raped you. And he's going to get away with it." Jamie swallowed hard and a tear dripped from her eye. Her dark brown eye. "He's supposed to be my friend. But I wouldn't have sex with him and our friendship hasn't been the same since."

"Who, sweetie," he asked.

"Carlisle." Then she couldn't hold back her cries anymore.

 **NYU the next morning**

Nick and Amanda approach the same small group. Nick snatches Carlisle from where he is sitting. "Carlisle Anderson, you are under arrest for the rape of Jamie Gaines. You have the right to remain silent…"

Carla was appalled, or vindictive, actually. "Don't say anything, Carlisle," she pulled out her cell phone and started dialing, "I'm calling dad right now."

 **Interview room 3**

Elliot walks through the door rolling up his sleeves; a bad sign for Carlisle. This always happens before a male suspect gets roughed up. "I'm prelaw. I know I don't have to say a word," said Carlisle with an evil grin. Elliot grabbed the boy's shirt collar in his fists. "Hey! You can't do that! Cops can't do that!" In his face, Elliot menacingly tells him "I'm not a cop" smirks and lets him go. "I've got half a mind to beat the crap outta ya! But instead I'm gonna ask you something." He sat down, breathing heavily through his nose. "Every time a girl doesn't sleep with you you get violent?"

"No girl has ever turned me down."

"Jamie did! So you broke her ribs and her face. You fractured her skull! I'd love to hear your side of that story."

"You'll have to wait till my lawyer gets here."

The magic words were spoken and Elliot left. He waited outside the room for the lawyer, Carlisle's father. "He's gonna pop like a bubble. I can feel it," he tells Olivia. She can feel it, too. Upon his arrival Elliot goes back in with Olivia. They both stand, seemingly towering over the boy and his father.

Mr. Anderson tells Carlisle not to say anything. "I'll tell you what questions you can answer."

Olivia starts. "First, where were you Tuesday night just before it became Wednesday morning?

Mr. Anderson nods. Carlisle says, "With Carla and Joe at his house."

"Mhm. Jamie says you came on to her once. She rejected you. That piss you off?"

"That bitch wouldn't know a good lay if it slammed into her."

Elliot interjected, "That's exactly what you did, Carlisle! You slammed into her over and over and when we get your DNA you're done for! Then you'll never be a lawyer like your father, huh?"

"You wanna be like your father, don't you," asked Olivia, cunningly, "Three domestic violence incidents within six months before your mom left him."

Mr. Anderson defends himself emotionless, "No charges were filed."

"You wanna know where she is now, Carlisle?"

"That whore has nothing to do with Carlisle. Right, son?"

"Do you remember? The fighting. Yelling. Crashing. Dead silence. She became a drug addict, Carlisle. Unemployed. Just selling her body for a fix. Your flesh and blood. The woman who birthed you!"

"How does this relate to my boy?"

Elliot switched to empathizing with the young man. "You're more likely to commit crimes of violence if violence took place in your home. As young as you were, Carlisle. Not knowing right from wrong. This man may as well had raped Jamie himself. You know what I mean? Maybe- maybe it wasn't your fault," he offered.

"Tell us what happened," Olivia offered, "The judge might take it easy on you when the court hears about you father's history of violence. Make this right, Carlisle."

Carlisle was breathing hard to fight back tears. "My mom left to be with another man. The one she was cheating with."

"That's what your dad told you."

"Sooner or later we're going to get that sample. If you wait for later you won't get a deal," Elliot urged.

Barba walked in. "And I can get you a deal."

The boy hesitated, his mouth open, wanting to form words, but he didn't know what to do. His father, a man he modeled himself after, a man he trusted and could always depend on, was telling him to keep his mouth shut. And his sister, his twin sister, he didn't want to get her in trouble and she's always known what to do. Truth be told, she was more like her father than he was. And she got a lot of glory because she was a girl—the only female his father actually loved and didn't objectify. But he knew his sister had a streak of evil in her. Perhaps, that's what made her better at being like their father. She never expressed missing their mother. Christmases where Carlisle had one thing on his list and looked at his toys with disgust in his heart and stomach, Carla filled her paper with material things that would make her so happy on Christmas morning it was as if nothing had ever gone wrong. He sometimes thought to himself, "What is wrong with her. Why doesn't she have a heart?" She took after their father. These twins were only alike on the surface.

"Okay. Fine!"

"Don't," screamed his father. Was he genuinely afraid for his son or was it about his family's image? Who will ever know?

"But it wasn't my fault! Okay? She made me do it!"

His excuse infuriated Elliot but he kept his voice low. "Jamie didn't make you do anything. She's the victim."

"Not Jamie," asked Olivia, her eyes narrowing.

"She denied both of us something that was ours." He started crying, trying to choke the tears back like he had when his mother never returned for any of his birthdays – that's all he had every wished for. He still wishes for it, too. "I wouldn't have gotten sucked into this if she had just let me bang her earlier this year!"

Olivia told him to go on.

"She has enough money already. Our funds are getting lower every time we turn around. We would've gotten 100K if she would've just stepped down."

Barba chirped in. "Your father's been dipping into your trust funds. Turns out he's not so good at investment making. Chasing extreme wealth. More is never enough."

"Only a girl can win that scholarship money in the tournament tonight."

"How much was she offering you," asked Elliot referring to Carlisle's sister, Carla, in return for him making sure Jamie missed the competition.

"50/50." He gently sucked some snot back into his nose before it could get too far. "You're running late."

Elliot immediately looked over at Olivia. "Like a bubble."

Olivia called Det. Amanda Rollins to escort Carl to holding and tell Fin to take Nick to pick up Carla. Then she introduced ADA Barba to Elliot. It was a gesture nobody recognized the importance of. "This is my former partner, Elliot Stabler. We worked together for twelve long years. Elliot, this is ADA Rafael Barba."

"Pleasure to meet you, Stabler. I've heard good things about you," said Barba, meeting Elliot's hand with his own.

"I certainly hope so," he said, smiling cordially.

"Are you coming out of retirement or…" His voice trailed off in anticipation of an answer without having to complete his sentence.

"Uh, no, actually. I'm visiting. I can't have Olivia outranking me, ya know."

The three of them laughed before they decided that meet-and-greet time was over. Barba needed to go get paperwork for the case and Carlisle's deal arranged. "You gonna follow me around all day," asked Olivia, teasingly. They walked in her office and she started getting some things together and into her purse. He looked confused because why would she be going home early when a suspect is about to be coming in?

"You're packing up pretty early, don't ya think."

"Nope," she answered, deliberating in her mind whether it was any of his business or not. Ultimately, she decided that she still trusts him no matter what. "When it's really time to go home I just wanna be able to grab it and go. Shave as much time off as I can."

"What's the rush, Sergeant?"

"Well, I have a life."

"Oh, yeah," he asked, teasingly with a chuckle, "What's his name?"

She played along into his presumptuous assumption. "Noah." She said it smiling slyly. It was actually sexy to him. It was, like everything else in their former lives, foreplay. It was a fun game to play. "Why?"

He shrugged, lifting one corner of his mouth, and turning his head to the side, away from her. "No reason." She finished throwing things into her purse and let it flop into her chair. Then she walked up to him, her presence demanding his attention. He looked into her face. She was obviously amused. "I bet I can beat him up," he said, low. He let himself smile when she laughed out loud, the first time since his return that he'd gotten a full smile out of her. She touched her hand to his chest playfully and started past him as he followed. "I bet you could," she said, "Anyway, it might take a minute for them to get here with Carla—"

"Yeah, I could use a bite." It made them both feel good to know that they still had it. That seemingly telepathic chemistry. They smiled, unbeknownst to one another, at this.

"You're buying," she reminded him.

"Just like old times."

 **Doris's Diner**

They were sat at a table by the window. It wasn't as crowded as it should've been considering that it was nearing quitting time in Manhattan, but that just added to the wonderful alignment of the stars. Elliot ordered himself burger, a glass of water, and one shot of bourbon. Before Olivia could speak he ordered for her a chicken and vegetable soup and tea. He did all this with is chin in the air and smirking, showing off because he remembered. She found his pride to be cute and wanted to let him down easy. "Close," she said, a finger in the air to stop the waitress from writing the wrong order, "Actually, make that broccoli and cheese soup."

"No problem," said the young woman. "And no shot for the missus," she asked, looking form Olivia to Elliot. He looked at Olivia for an answer. She shook her head. The nice waitress said, "Tsk, tsk, tsk… You're not doing it right."

He had to do everything in his power not to blush. He thanked god he could control that in front of Olivia. His only saving grace was that they'd get that all the time, people thinking they were a couple, so it was never a big deal. But now, him being single, he didn't want to make a wrong move and jeopardize anything. They looked at each other for about five seconds when the waitress left, then Olivia looked out the window. He held his gaze on her. Her hair looked so soft. He's only ever gotten to feel it once when that prick Andy nearly shot her and Elliot held her in his arms, touching her face, moving her hair from it, extreme concern festering in his heart. It was about the same length now and still gravity was light on it. He wondered how he could get away with just feeling it. But it would be impossible because of the implications that would come with doing something like that. The waitress arrived with Olivia's tea and Elliot's glass of water and shot. Olivia thanked her graciously and ran her finger along the rim of the steaming tea. She looked up only when her peripheral caught Elliot throwing the shot back. Then the spirit gave him courage.

"So," he said, then paused, "You really like this Noah?"

She smiled a little. "I love him. With all my heart."

He didn't see that coming.

"So, it's serious."

"As a heart attack."

All he could think was that that shot was for nothing. The game was over.

"What about you, Elliot? How long ago did you and Kathy divorce? Seeing women yet?"

Just then the waitress appeared and sat their food in front of them, telling them to enjoy. He lifted the top bun of his burger, occupying himself, hoping that the interruption had stopped the conversation from going in the direction it was going. Wishful thinking it was.

"So?"

He sighed and thought up some words to say because he couldn't leave her waiting too long without her having to speculate. "It's been about a year and a half." He wasn't smiling anymore.

She felt the change in temperature but didn't back off. She had to make him talk. After all, that's what partners are supposed to do. "You guys made it a long time since I saw you last."

"Why wouldn't we," he asked, still inspecting his burger. That attitude, that temper—it was still there and if he isn't careful, she thought, it could be what keeps them away from each other. He's lucky she understands him and is compassionate and empathetic in spite of his lashing out.

"And you've been seeing new people," she persisted.

"Um. Not really."

She frowned a bit. She doesn't want him to be alone. She knows what that's like and Elliot's too good a man to waste away like her. "Well, what are you waiting for," she asked, almost angry.

"I don't want to see _new_ people."

There was an emphasis on _new_. Suddenly she didn't feel safe hiding behind her nonexistent boyfriend. Suddenly, she wanted Elliot. She wanted all of him. She wanted his friendship, his loyalty, his company, his love. She wanted to feel his lips finally against hers and know what Kathy had taken for granted.

* * *

 **So, tell me what you think. I feel good about it. It's not often that I write something and don't hate it when I read it over. I feel like this dialogue is completely viable. Review, tell me what you like, what you hate.** _ **Happy reviewing!**_

 **PS: Thanks to the couple of people who participated in my poll. I'd like to see more people respond to that. I want it to be something fun and it's an open poll so you can see how others are voting, too.**


	4. Carpe diem

**Let's get this show back on the road, shall we?**

 **Floodgates**

* * *

"I don't want to see _new_ people."

She prayed for a call from Fin or Nick. She didn't feel prepared to deal with this. She didn't want to deal with this. Even though she loved him she knew she wasn't equipped to go into a relationship with someone like Elliot. He'd been married most of his life. He has and still is raising children. He has much more experience when it comes to family. He has more experience in love, too. If this happened, even though she doubted it could, she'd be a rookie just like fourteen years ago. And she'd be at his mercy, learning from him and relying on his expertise. It's like someone took a blade to that scar and made it bleed all over again.

He cleared his throat. "I don't know about you, but," he choked on his courage, "uh, I've had enough to eat. I'm glad you called me." She had dropped her gaze to her tea when she accepted that he wasn't going to look at her. She thought that maybe she had just ruined her only chance at having him in her life again. She needs him in her life. She doesn't know what for, but that doesn't matter. As long as he is with her, there won't be a void anymore. After four years she still hasn't found a way to fill that void. How the hell does she fill that empty space? She felt liquid accumulating above her bottom eyelids. She was pained and embarrassed, hoping to God he wouldn't notice. God followed through, though, and she looked up to find he had walked away from her. Again. There was enough cash on the table to cover both of their meals and the tip and his burger, uneaten, was barely touched. Tears rolled down her cheeks uninhibited. How could she let him slip away like that?

 **SVU Interview room 2**

Fin listened through the intercom as Nick seated Carla at one end of the steel table and himself directly across from her. He began questioning.

"Did you conspire against Jamie Gaines?"

"No. You're wasting your time."

"Your brother is telling us differently."

"My brother may be in some very deep shit and he's wanting to drag somebody down with him."

He shifted in his seat, appearing more attentive. "Why do you say that?"

"Carlisle is weak. He could never get in trouble alone."

Nick sighed, sick of her bullshit and sick of her invincible attitude. "You're lying to me, Carla."

"No, I'm not," she said blankly.

"You manipulated Carlisle into beating and raping Jamie. He's not like you and your father. You told him that he had to learn how to 'be a man,' remember? 'Take what is his.' Like Jamie, for instance. And the scholarship money-"

"I never encouraged him to do anything crazy like this and you can't tie me to it."

"He wouldn't beat Jamie to a pulp to win scholarship money he can't use for himself- the only other girl on the team was you. That's not just probable cause-"

"You can't prove any of this!"

"That's motive." They were silent a moment. Carla's face went white all over and she was trembling with anger. Nick leaned forward with his arms resting on the table. "Your game's up. Admit it, Carla. _Be a man_. But you know what the real shame is? Jamie probably would've just given you the money if you'd asked. I hear she's that great of a person."

"Whatever. I'm done talking to you."

Nick left her to wallow in her own mess. Outside of the interrogation room he expressed his concern that he hadn't gotten a real confession out of her. Fin reassured him that Carla wasn't getting away from this. "Once the jury hears about the family's history of violence, she's done for. We'll get her shrinked, track her mother down as a witness. Crime scene photos. Carlisle's testimony. Don't sweat it."

 **Office of Dr. Lindstrom**

"Olivia?"

His voice sounded faintly in her ears, but not enough to bring her back.

"Olivia," Dr. Lindstrom called, gently, "You look like you've got a lot on your mind."

She was slowly becoming aware of her surroundings. She felt like she was losing her grip on her sanity when she realized that she had somehow gotten through the rest of yesterday's work day, gone home and taken care of herself and Noah then, apparently, gotten herself here in Dr. Lindstrom's office. At some point she must've started feeling those intense feelings again (dread, anger, resentment, low self-worth, confusion). She must've recognized that she was on her way to a very low place and numbed over. But, thankfully, in her state of emotional numbness she could process that she needed to see someone. Talk to someone.

"If you can say it like that," she whispered, "But it's really just one thing."

"I'm glad you're here. You already know that whatever is bothering you, anything, you can talk about it here. There's no pressure, no shame. And nobody outside of this room will know."

She looked as if she was in shock. Her face was... stunned. Elliot was a lot to process and she could no longer stuff it down anymore, because Elliot had that blade and was dragging it across the scar he left on her. "My old partner..."

That's all she could get out at first. Dr. Lindstrom remembered very well the many sessions they spent focusing on that one subject. He had a lot to do with how hard of a person she'd become by the time she became his client. He had always tried to recreate in his head an Olivia that was confident about her own worth, knowing that there would always be one person who understood her fully and would make her feel like she meant something to someone if she ever did come close to the end of her rope. But his imagination wasn't that extensive.

"Elliot Stabler," he said, finishing her sentence.

She nodded. "Yes."

"Have the two of you reconnected recently?"

She nodded. "Yes." Her voice was weaker that time.

"You once said you'd give anything to see him just once more-"

"William Lewis put that in my head."

"And you accepted it as true. And that's why it struck a nerve. It hurt. It still does."

She shook her hand and clenched her jaws. But she couldn't stop a couple of tears from traveling down her face.

"You don't feel that way anymore? It has been a considerable amount of time. Life-altering events have since taken place. He may not be one of the most important things to you anymore. What do you think?"

"He's still so important to me. He shouldn't be. I should be over this."

"But you aren't, are you?"

She sucked in a corner of her bottom lip, which she fought to keep from quivering. "He wants- he wants back into my life. Permanently."

"How do you mean _permanently_? Be more specific, Olivia."

"He and Kathy are divorced. I asked him if he's been seeing new people. He said he didn't want to see _new_ people."

"How did you respond?"

"I didn't. Couldn't... You should've seen his face."

"What happened next?"

"Nothing. When I looked up he was gone."

"What do _you_ want, Olivia?"

"We both know what _I_ want," she said, annoyed but mostly at herself for wanting it.

"What are you going to do about it? Are you going to open the door for him to exit your life again or are you going to sieze this opportunity? See what could be with your 'best friend?'"

Elliot was alone in his apartment. He'd given up on trying to occupy himself. Instead he lay on his bed above the covers at 8pm, uninterested in anything except being alone with his thoughts. That's the only place he could be with her anyway. He didn't bother trying to watch TV, because he'd just think about her. He could go to a bar and get hammered, but he'd just think about her. He could get himself involved with some lovely lady, but he'd just think about her. She was everywhere but by his side.

He felt like a fool trying to tell her that he loved her. Then she wouldn't respond. She didn't turn him down, but she didn't offer him any hope whatsoever. They were never very good at verbal communication, so he quickly accepted it as a failed attempt. He couldn't say anything more. He couldn't even look at her. He could no longer stand to be in her presence. He had no right to be offended, but he took a huge step forward thinking she would meet him halfway. Until his phone rang, he thought she wouldn't.

He sat upright. "Olivia?"

"I know it's kinda late, but are you doing anything right now?"

"No, no. What about you?"

"I didn't mean to- freeze up at the diner-"

"No, it wasn't your fault."

"Right," she agreed, unconvincingly, "Can we- I wanna see you."

"I can, uh, come to your place or..."

"Okay then," she said, half-confident.

He switched out of his sweatpants and into a crisp pair of jeans and wrapped himself up in a leather jacket before leaving. All that was to be heard was distant sirens and light traffic as ambience. In the foreground was the sound of his boots slamming into the cement sidewalk and his own shallow breathing. He forbade himself from going through the numerous possible scenarios of what could happen that night. Carpe diem.

She needed only his "It's me" before buzzing him up. She was listening by the door for his footsteps and waited for him to knock. It sounded like he was only standing in front of her door. And she knew he was trying to build the courage to knock on her door. She wondered why he always needed to be so difficult, so complicated. Her face twisted into a frown, because she could feel him contemplating to walk away. The door was not enough to keep her from feeling his turmoil. She, being braver than him, swung the door open.

She was standing with a baby resting on her chest. "I just got him to close his eyes," she said with a nervous smile. Elliot had to snap his bottom jaw back up and return the same nervous smile, so as not to seem withdrawn or taken aback. He reached out and stroked the sleeping boy's hair. "He's beautiful. I know you're happy." She moved aside and ushered him in, closing the door behind him. Then she gestured for him to hang his jacket on the coat hanger beside the door. Olivia wondered why he seemed to hesitate. She began to walk away, but spun around to say something just before she realized the reason for his hesitation. His upper body was only clothed in a white tank top, obviously not enough to hide his physique from her wandering eyes. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and his own eyes examined her living room, taking note of every children's toy, picture frame, and magazine. A smile gently crept across his face.

"I'm gonna lay him down for the night. I'll be right back."

"That's fine," he said barely above his breath.

When she came back three minutes later she found that he had set himself on her couch. She couldn't tell if he was looking at all the toys splayed about her living room floor or if he was staring at nothing, just thinking. She assumed the safer of the two and hurried over to start tossing toys into an orange bin in the corner. "I'm sorry it's a mess," she said, putting toys in her arms which were repeatedly proving that their holding capacity had been reached three toys ago. He laughed at her aura of awkwardness and leapt to her aid. She graciously accepted his help and they simultaneously dropped their batches into the orange bin. "Thanks," she chuckled, flipping her hair out of her face. "No problem. I remember those days," he said, smiling. Olivia laughed scoffingly.

"You mean _Kathy_ remembers those days."

"I dunno, Liv, I've had my share of clean up and diaper duty."

"If you say so," she said, still smiling and now making her way to the couch, him following.

"Yeah, well-

 _-the job."_

They said it at the same time. She looked down at her hands on her knees. He kept his eyes on her a little while longer before looking at her hands as well. Then he shifted to sit facing her, his arm resting atop the back of the couch. This demanded her attention and she looked up to meet his eyes. He said to her, "I hope his father isn't leaving you with the bigger share." Kathy had often admitted feeling in over her head, taking care of their four then five children with his extremely limited presence. He was willing to butt heads with any man who might try to leave Olivia with such a burden. "I, uh, I take care of Noah on my own with the help of our sitter, Lucy."

"Noah? The baby is Noah?" He was visibly relieved.

"You relieved that I don't have some absentee husband or just that I'm a single mother," she asked, her smile diminishing and tone becoming inquisitive.

"Well," he said, "I'm happy that you have a kid and you don't have to deal with the added stress of having an 'absentee husband.'"

She looked away again and started to talk before Elliot cut her off. "Why haven't you settled down with anyone, Liv?"

She swallowed hard. Her face showed her own confusion. She went with the rehearsed answer. "The job.

And I have a more important guy in my life now. And, I don't know, I'm getting a bit old to- I'm not interested in sorting through men to find the one I'm looking for."

He pushed her. She could tell he was pushing. She was actually being open. He didn't know if it was him or if it was that time had changed her that way. It was a rare opportunity that he had to take advantage of. So he pushed her.

"You've never told me what's right for you. I mean, we never talked about it."

"You always acted like _you_ knew what was right for me," she said half-jokingly.

"Well, I thought I at least knew what wasn't. I was, uh, arrogant then." An inkling of guilt leaked into his mind to think that he may have warded off her Mr. Right at some point during their partnership. And there she was building what family she could for herself. And possibly because of him.

"It was my fault. I shouldn't have let you act like my big brother." But she liked it. She never scolded him for protecting her from men he didn't think deserved her. She met his gaze once more. "I guess the right man for me would be strong. A protector. Wouldn't mind a family. And he'd love me. Intensely. And I'd know it."

 _She'd know it_. There had been very few times when she doubted his commitment to her. Few, but there were. He'd failed at making it factual knowledge in her head that he was her #1 supporter. He only hoped that he could reinforce years of effort by sending her his miniature badge and Semper Fi necklace, which she happened to be wearing.

"I hope you know that I will always care deeply for you," he said softly, gesturing at the gift around her neck, "And I never wanted to walk out of your life."

She brought a hand to the necklace, continuing to hold his gaze. "I think I know," she whispered.

* * *

 **Once again, I'm postponing the good stuff. I realize that I suck at consistently updating. Don't hate. I'm hanging on by a thread over here. There will be another chapter. Tell me what you think about this one-what you love, what you hate. _Happy reviewing!_**


	5. For better or worse

**Sorry I been negligent, guys. Thanks for liking this story, though. It's coming to a close. Here goes nothing.**

 **Floodgates**

* * *

She brought a hand to the necklace, continuing to hold his gaze. "I think I know," she whispered.

...

Elliot felt lighter than he had felt in years. An enormous burden-guilt, regret, grief-was in the process of being lifted and he could physically feel the world shifting to accommodate the unexpected change. In that moment, he didn't speak. If he could even think of the right words to utter, his tongue wouldn't have been able to help his lips form those words. And his dry throat would have sought the appropriate air from his lungs unsuccessfully. Olivia pressed her lips together, looking down. Whether she would forgive him or not was not the question to be asked. The question was how would things change if she let him back inter her life again. He cleared his throat to reattain the stable demeanor he had lost, "You got any food or has nothing changed?" A grin spread across her complacent face. She spun her head in the direction of the kitchen, her hair floating carelessly with the motion. "Umm, tsk tsk tsk," she hummed, spinning her head back to face him with a full, cheek-to-cheek smile and sparkling eyes, "Feel like Gerber tonight?"

He laughed, sat up and leaned forward, shaking his head. "Some things never change, huh?" They were filling the space of her living room with hearty laughter, slightly quieted so as not to disturb Noah. "Ya sure? It's #1 recommended," she goofed. As their laughter began to calm to chuckle then air, she slipped her hand over his shoulder and rested her chin on the end of his shoulder.

"Everything has changed," she said in an almost soothing voice. Then she laid the side of her head on his shoulder. She let out a long, relaxed, alleviated sigh. She wanted to cry and he wanted to pace. They could hardly read each other, though.

"Liv?"

"Yeah?"

"I wish I'd been a better partner."

She sighed again, this time short and marginally annoyed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I attacked you so many times," he explained, keeping his face forward. Olivia pressed her forehead and nose into his shoulder and upper arm. "Ya know?"

"I know," she begged, "I was there, I remember. I also remember coming after you a time or two."

"Yeah, but you never deserved it. It never had anything to do with you-"

"I know."

"You were always there-"

"Except when I wasn't-"

"and you would've followed me straight into early retirement."

"El, what's all this pining about?"

Finally, he turned to face her, to make her face him. He lifted his arm, the one she was leaning on, up and over her and he gripped the top of the couch. With his other hand he reached out for her left arm and brought it toward him to turn her body in his direction. Now he could face his demons. He held fast but not uncomfortably tight to her forearm and said, "I repeatedly hurt the person closer to me than anyone I know. The one person I could count on."

She moved her right arm to the side of his head. She lightly rubbed his buzzed hair just above his ear.

"You were all I ever had," she whispered, "I didn't even want anything else."

"Yeah, well, you should've left me. For good."

"But I didn't," she shot back, begging yet again for him to just trust that she could never write him off, "That would've only hurt both of us." Her hand graduated to his cheek. "Even still, I just want you back in my life." He swallowed and clenched his jaw. He felt her left hand slowly take its control back from his grip and slowly slide down his arm to take his hand. His eyes fell shut until he finished taking in a much needed breath. "You don't get it," she said-or asked. He looked into her eyes, past the dark brown ring, and deep into the pupil. It sucked him in, taking him on an unending journey through an infinite tunnel. Her eyes, they transfixed him. His heart, it was thumping against the skin of his chest, threatening to erupt from his body and rip through the fabric of his tank top. He felt like his soul had risen out of his body. He wasn't sure if he was there or anywhere. It could be called an out-of-body experience except that he wasn't watching from outside of his body, but from behind his very own eyes when he carefully leaned forward and magnificently merged his lips perfectly with hers.

Or he thought it had happened carefully, however his perception of the action was jaded through his surreal take on the moment. By her sudden intake of breath a mere millisecond before his lips crash landed his unconscious feared that he had just not only emotionally overwhelmed her but had been physically forceful. He did nothing, however, to show his regret. He simply coaxed her with his warm mouth until she apparently rebounded from her initial shock and, to his alleviation, became a willing participant. She guided the hand which his occupied around her waist and, once she was sure his arm would embrace her in that way, she proceeded to drape her newly-free arm over his shoulder while her other hand was laced under his other arm and up to cling to his shoulder from behind. This made their contact very close and intimate. He, of course, being bigger than she and overcome with some blinding emotion was beginning to incidentally overpower her. Once her tongue confirmed that his heart-stopping advance was warmly welcomed his confidence experienced a leap and the kiss marginally became more enthusiastic than clumsily improvised. They were both now unapologetic perpetrators in this forbidden dance. Still, Olivia felt a strange resistance within her as she felt herself leaning backward onto the couch. Having felt that tiny shift in her body, her resistance to gravity trying to pull her down into a laying position on the couch, Elliot broke the kiss, an act he was compelled to do due to his status as a gentleman and former Special Victims detective. No matter how honorable this was, he couldn't deny his feeling of disappointment. When his face retreated he could then see that he was leading in this dance. He was on the offense, leaning toward her, occupying her personal space. He retracted back a bit further and, gaining control over his breath again, apologized with a simple and slightly confused "I'm sorry."

Olivia said nothing. She was so very overwhelmed and her thoughts were thinking so fast that she couldn't hear any of them clearly and, thus, couldn't deliberate what to say. She didn't want him to be sorry. She wasn't sorry to finally be able to see him, touch him, or smell his unique scent. She wasn't sorry about where they were then, there on her couch. She didn't want him to be sorry about kissing her. She was glad somebody actually had to guts or absence of mind to take that chance. She almost lost him through the threshold of her front door but she moved quickly, gunning for the door to stop him, calling out his name to halt his departure. One hand gripped the door and the other gripped his arm. He was forced to meet her confrontational gaze, glazed over and beckoning.

"I don't even know what this means, Elliot," she almost shouted, offended that he was prepared to leave her again because she'd reacted in a less than promising way (when, in truth, he would've withdrawn no matter how she reacted). He wanted to leave. Disappear. What he'd just done... there was no going back after that. One touch of the lips would make or break them. He regretted risking the memory of their friendship like this. If he'd only stayed away he'd at least know for always that their bond wasn't broken. But this... could wreck that.

Her breathing was audible and her mouth, bearing evidence of a passionate kiss, was slightly agape. She would still be in shock had it not been for the fear of him walking out of that door and out of her life again. It was unbelievable, her fighting for this. Her choosing not to avoid these feelings was astonishing. She didn't want him to leave and if that meant she had to come clean to herself about their relationship and force him to as well, then so be it.

"But I don't want you to walk away from me again," she said.

"I don't know what I was thinking," he said before changing his course of thought, "Look, we don't need to do this. I don't want ruin us!"

"Then don't," she shouted back.

Then they heard Noah make a noise. She immediately shushed Elliot, putting her hand against his chest and looking in the direction of Noah's bedroom as if she was looking through the walls and at him. "Be quiet. He'll go back to sleep." He made a couple more noises. This annoyed Elliot because he thought she just didn't want to leave this argument unfinished. "He's up, Liv. And I gotta go." He tried to turn to walk away but she gripped his tank top and shushed him again. She made him stand and listen for a long sixty seconds of silence. He'd fallen back asleep like his mother said he would. She let go of his tank top, but her hand remained there in the middle of his chest. She recomposed herself. She chose to stick to her guns.

"Don't do this," she said, blandly.

"I can't do this. I'll never forgive myself," he said, staring boldly back into her brown eyes.

"So that's it? Huh? You're just gonna leave?"

He wouldn't say a word.

"If you go now, this is how you leave things. And everything we've ever had is dead. If you stay, we have a chance." A knot was beginning to form in her throat. She tried to ignore it because the next thing she planned to say was the most vital. He could here her breaking when she said it. "I want you to stay."

She wanted him to stay. That sentence swiped the rug out from all of his bullshit reasons to run away. He somehow learned to lie to himself, making ridiculous allegations about Olivia not needing him or wanting him. He'd always been in denial about how much he could possibly mean to her. Or anybody for that matter. But there it was. From her own lips. She felt the muscles under her fingers begin to move and instinctually clenched her hand into a fist, trapping the fabric of his tank top within. She let her eyes fall shut, because he was leaving. But she held on blindly. He could leave but she would never let go. Her faith served her well because when she heard the door close his shirt was still in her hand. She opened her eyes to find that he was still there. She lifted herself on her toes and pulled him by his shirt and their mouths quickly interlocked. The kiss wanted to be frantic but the two held back, wanting to savor each other rather than devour.

His hands were down at her hips and snuck themselves upward, slipping partially beneath the thin fabric of her cream-colored blouse. It was an accident, which is why he stopped their ascent. He was intent on censoring his body's reactions and behaviors, but it turned out not to be a problem. Olivia briefly broke their kiss and lifted her shirt over her own head, heeding his unintentional cue. Then she returned herself into his possession. She knew better than to question where this moment was taking them. She wasn't willing to let this get away from her, the unbridled affection and the honest-to-God passion. Her heart was melting inside her and the way his hands roamed her body and caressed her face and hair told her that his heart was melting, too.

She broke the kiss again this time to slide her arms around his neck and hug him tightly, her cheek to his. They've gotten this far and still there is a hesitation or resistance to make the next move. His jaw hung low as he held her back just as tightly and took advantage of the break in time to regain control of his breath. "I love you," she said. It was painful to say. She literally had to squeeze the air from her lungs and force the words through her gritted teeth. His eyelids fell shut and he let out a sigh. It was relief. And it was anxiety. She loved him like nobody else ever has. And this gave him certain responsibilities. Like never hurting her like he tended to do when they were partners. And fulfilling her every need. They'd always known they loved each other, but the verbal manifestation of those feelings meant that he could never leave her again. It's easier, however difficult, to deny feelings unspoken.

"I love you, too," he whispered into her ear. His words and the breath that drove them scattered goosebumps down her neck and back. He dropped his hands to her thighs and proceeded to lift her off the floor and turned her back to the front door. She wrapped her legs around him just above his hips. She quickly clawed at his back to get his tank top up and over his head. To do this he had to let go of her so he could get his arms out of the shirt, so he pressed his hips firmly against her so she'd stay propped up against the door. His jeans mostly contained his growing need for her but she could still feel his excitement wanting to meet hers. She ran her hands quickly across his broad chest. She practically worshiped his physique and had admired it for so long, only having the pleasure of setting her eyes on his bare chest a couple of times. Elliot's frantic need was slowed to a pleasant desire by the feel of her hands taking his torso in so tenderly. He returned and planted a kiss on the corner of her mouth. Then her jawline. Then an open-mouthed kiss to her neck became a gentle sucking as his hands migrated to beneath of her, claiming her ass with a sense of patience. She let her head fall back against the door. One hand gripped his shoulder to keep herself from falling apart and the other found the nape of his neck. This was it. They were in this for - like Elliot said - better or worse.

"Let's go," she requested and/or granted permission. He carried her like that to her bedroom and set her down on her feet in front of the bed. There was a brief moment where they both had to consciously maintain their composure. Then Olivia began to unbutton his jeans while his hands rested at her hips. He dropped his head forward and pressed his mouth into the top of her head as she unzipped his pants. He inhaled as much of the scent of her hair as he could. Suddenly, after all these years, it was like he couldn't get enough. He needed to smell her, touch her, kiss her, more. How did he ever not cross that line in their twelve years as partners the world will never know! When she pushed his jeans down with his boxers he kissed her hair. He could feel himself throbbing. It almost hurt except it was a numb ache. He whispered to her to lay down and she did. She set down and slid back, propping herself on her elbows. She couldn't take her eyes off him. When he was over her he undid her pants and slid them down with her panties. She took her bra off herself and that's when they were both completely exposed to each other. He lowered himself onto her her. They were skin to skin. She, of course, adjusted her legs to invite him into her space and he hooked one of them at his hip as they locked their lips in a long, warm, sensual kiss.

He pressed himself against her center and she slid her arms further around him, holding him tighter, bracing for impact. Underneath her palms she could feel his muscles contracting and relaxing, helping to orchestrated his synchronized motion as he pushed slowly into her. There was a quick, uncontrolled, uninhibitable intake of breath from Olivia and Elliot grunted. Her walls were hugging him so passionately and the overwhelming feeling that oblivion was soon approaching almost made him curse himself for having been abstinent for so long. He pushed on the rest of the way. He decided not to prolong the night - mainly for fear that he wouldn't have the discipline to - and since Olivia's moans and subtle, breathy exclamations were proof that it wouldn't make her no never-mind. So he continued at an enthusiastic yet luxurious pace until her orgasm took her into a different dimension. He pulled himself out, drenched in her natural lubricant, and let himself finish on her thigh. He was reluctant to cum inside of her and that was no time to ask even if he had known how to or had the state of mind to think to ask beforehand. When he was completely spent he laid himself down partially atop her and tucked one hand between the other side of her waist and the bed so that when he moved off of her her body would be compelled to follow. Olivia wrapped her arm around his waist and rested her head just under his chin. The lay there coming down from their respective highs, simply breathing and being. Then Olivia, being the bolder one of the relationship, broke the silence.

"I miss this," she said, rubbing her thumb smoothly against his side.

"What," he asked, "sex?"

She didn't have to look to know he was smirking. How could he turn away from a chance to minimize the emotional aura with a slight jester. He would've been worried he'd opened his big, fat mouth for the last time if she hadn't relieved him with a very modest chuckle. It was barely audible but he felt it from her chest and the puff of air that simultaneously left her nose and rushed a small fraction of his skin including his nipple. He slid his fingers between hers so they could no longer tickle his side.

"Just being with you. The closeness. We were so close," she said.

"Me, too. I don't wanna go another year without my best friend," he finally confessed her significance in his life.

In a way, they accepted that they were fated for one another. And as frightening as it was, it felt good to give themselves to each other, an ultimate gesture of love.

* * *

 **Whew. I was so done with this one. At last, I hope you enjoyed it. Forgive any typos. I just skimmed instead of proofreading. Got things to do. Perhaps I'll proofread for real at some other time. Thanks for reading.**

 ** _Happy Reviewing!_**


End file.
